


Homecoming

by thefactorygirl



Series: Late Night Romantics [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Breeding, Creampie, Dom!Boba, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face Slapping, Light BDSM, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Size Kink, Slapping, Voyeurism, mention of a safe word, pussy slapping, use of sex toys, vaginal plugging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29886123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefactorygirl/pseuds/thefactorygirl
Summary: “That’s not yours.”You choke, all functions coming to a screeching halt. Your eyes shoot open to see the menacing bounty hunter staring down at you.Boba Fett is back. And he's pissed.
Relationships: Boba Fett & Reader, Boba Fett/Original Female Character(s), Boba Fett/Reader
Series: Late Night Romantics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2197362
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> This is the follow-up to Late Night Romantics. I tried to write this in such a way that you don’t need to read LNR before you read this. 
> 
> Cross-posted on tumblr @thefact0rygirl

“That’s not yours.”

You choke, all functions coming to a screeching halt. Your eyes shoot open to see the menacing bounty hunter staring down at you. 

Boba Fett is back. And he’s pissed. 

You look like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. And in a backwards way, you sort of _are_. 

Your last communication from Boba was over a week ago. It was a simple message, but with enough punch to leave you struggling ever since. 

_ETA 7 rotations. Don’t touch yourself until then. I’ll know if you do._

If the phrase “fuck around and find out” could materialize itself, it would be as Boba Fett. He is not someone to cross in life and in sex, and you had every intention of following his order. _Truly_. 

But then seven rotations turned into nine and _Slave I_ had yet to break through the atmosphere of your home planet. You couldn’t wait to feel his weight on top of you, but you also were growing increasingly frustrated.

The thought of him, his body on yours, his rough hands grasping your throat...

Even if they were just whispers of your imagination, they had you sexually frustrated and miserable. Waiting for his touch again felt like a divine punishment and a divine reward rolled into one.

It was another night of tossing and turning when you kicked off your blanket in an exasperated huff. 

_It’s not like he’s even in the same system as you…_

Your hands slide under your tunic, dancing across your stomach before moving in opposite directions — one to massage your chest and the other to your pulsing core. It doesn’t take much to warm yourself up, with one hand pumping in and out while the other moved against your clit as you chased sweet release. You were almost there, toes curling and muscles tensing, when his surly voice broke the midnight silence. 

_Oh seven hells,_ he’s going to kill you.

Frozen with your hands still between your legs, you feel your wetness forming a wet spot on your sheets. You couldn’t even bullshit your way out of it, it’s obvious what you were doing and Maker knows how long he had been lurking in the shadows. 

The fact that his helmet blocks you from reading his expression only adds to the fear-riddled pleasure growing in your lower half. He says nothing, standing still with his hands on his hips. You know you should move, but your brain is still stuttering from your almost orgasm and Boba looming over you. 

Throat dry, you struggle with every lungful of air. “I, uh, didn’t hear you come in.”

“That was the point.”

“But—”

“But _what_? You wouldn’t have touched yourself?”

There is no mercy in his voice, no affection. Boba crouches down until his helmet inches away from your face. He’s right next to you. If it wasn’t for his helmet, you could feel his hot breath against your cheek. 

You don’t brave to look at him, keeping your eyes glued to the ceiling and hope it would cave in. That’s a better option than whatever punishment Boba has planned for you. 

“I rush across the galaxy, thinking you’re being a good girl,” He grips your chin, forcing you to turn towards him. “And I find you playing with _my_ pussy.”

“I’m sorry,” You whisper, words fuddling together from his death grip.

He scoffs, “No you’re not. But you will be.”

He shoves your chin away only to slap your cheek, his leather gloves leaving behind a stinging pain. 

He stands, nodding towards your tunic. “Take it off.”

You swallow, but remain frozen in place, watching him stalk to the end of the bed. 

“Did I stutter?”

He’s like a predator seeking its prey and there is no escape. You do as you’re told, pulling the tunic off your body while Boba wraps a hand around each of your ankles. He yanks you forward until your legs are dangling off the bed on each side of him. Hissing from the abrupt movement, the top layer of your skin burns to compliment the stinging on your cheek. 

Finding a crumb of confidence, you sit up on your elbows to see Boba ripping his helmet off. His upset is written all over his face, from the dark shadows under his sunken eyes to his clenched jaw, he is _not_ happy. 

“Boba,” You whimper as he forces your legs wide open so he can kneel between them. Leaning down, he lets his breath punctuate his words against your wet folds. 

“Whose pussy is this?”

“Y—Yours.”

“That’s right,” A sharp slap lands on top of your cunt. Your jerk away as jagged pain jolts mixes with your existing arousal. “And I’m gonna use it as I want. This pussy is _mine_.”

With his dark eyes locked with yours, he dives in. Flattening his tongue, he licks broad, flat stroke along your slit. Back and forth, up and down, letting you indulge in what you have been dreaming about. Because of your solo session, it doesn’t take long for the familiar pleasure to bubble up. 

He is careful to leave your sensitive clit alone, _for now_ , instead focusing his attention to your entrance. Your legs tense when he pokes his tongue inside you to scoop up a bead of your arousal. The sweet taste blooms on his tongue, and he can’t help but go back in for seconds. 

“Fuck, nothing sweeter in the galaxy. Did you miss my tongue?”

You nod, eyes trained on the sight of him lapping your core. “Yes, I missed your tongue.”

“You miss me?” His lips lock around your clit and moans, the vibrations buzzing through you. 

“Yes!” You cry as you revel in his tongue running along your clitoral hood, coaxing your sensitive nub out. Feeling your legs move to close around his head, Boba pushes back, keeping them pinned as he speeds up his assault. He continues sucking, his tongue lewd and lascivious, until you explode. 

Heart slamming and belly clenching, you surrender to Boba, moaning as ecstasy sears you, leaving your sensibility burned to ash. He laps up every last drop you give him, carrying you through your orgasm until it’s too much. Pleasure fades from your body, but he continues with delicate strokes, swallowing up your release until your nerves cry out in pain. 

Your shaky hands move to his head in an attempt to push him away, “B—Boba, I can’t.”

“You can,” He plunges his fingers inside you. “And you will.”

The pleasure grinds against your nerves with every spiked thrust of his fingers. “I didn’t haul ass for one, pathetic orgasm. You stop when I say so.”

You hiccup over your breath, your hands yanking on the short curls until you’re certain you’re pulling hair. 

Boba stops, hovering over your clit. “Do you need to use your safe word?”

 _The safe word_.

Even when Boba is rough and dominating, overstimulating you as he takes and takes from you, there’s a surprising lovingness in there. Something sweet to soothe the pain. Something to keep you eager for more. 

You have been replaying the same image for weeks now, rubbing yourself to a weak release, and now he is _here_. Even through the pains of overstimulation, you don’t want it to end. 

You want this. 

You want to fall apart, give yourself to him and maybe, _just maybe_ , he won’t leave for another bounty. He’ll stay with you, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets and love, and pump you full of his seed. 

You shake your head, loosening your grip on his hair as the green light for him to continue. And he does. Back on you, he strokes quick flicks at your sensitive nub while pumping his fingers inside you. With every stroke to your g-spot, ache muddles with pleasure, filling your head and veins. From there, all it takes is his gruff voice to set off another shattering orgasm.

“Come now. _Right now_.”

Vision darkening, you grind against his face feeling your dripping juices coat his chin and mouth. 

When he finally pulls away, he wraps a hand under your jaw and squeezes his fingers into the joints until your mouth falls into an ‘o’ shape. 

“Open.”

He reels back and spits, a mixture of his saliva and your taste landing on your tongue. He watches your throat bob as you swallow and murmurs, “Dirty little brat.”

Loosening his grip on your jaw, he lets you sit up only to crash your lips together. Your spirits pull together as his tongue twines with yours in a fight for control. You hear fabric shuffling before Boba pulls away to finish undoing the pants on his flight suit. 

His wicked laugh cools the remnants of your burning orgasm. “Should’ve listened, little one. Should’ve been good because now I’m not letting you go.”

Grabbing his cock he slides it back and forth across your pussy letting your juices mix together with his precum. 

His other hand travels to the nape of your neck, wrapping around and forcing your head down until your chin is buried in your chest. 

“Eyes open,” Boba sighs, watching your hole flutter against his head. “Watch me split you.”

You’re so wet, stickiness covering your thighs, but even so, he’s too big. Too thick for you to take all at once, no matter how wet you are…or how desperate.

With you hypnotized at the sight of him entering you, he moves his hands to grip your hips. He drags you back and forth on his cock, easing in a little bit farther each time. Your hips jerk, but he holds you still, letting you feel every inch of his thick cock invade you.

Taking you.

Claiming you. 

“That’s it. Take it like a good girl. C’mon, I know you can.”

You whine, fisting the sheets once he’s finally sheathed inside of you. The familiar scratch of his flight suit brushes your inner thighs. 

“Boba, you’re so big.”

Boba leans forward, biting your neck before growling in your ear, “Fuck. How are so fucking tight?”

“Me? Did you get bigger?”

He laughs, smiling for the first time that night. “No, pretty girl. Still the same.”

He can claim anger and upset for as long as he chooses, but deep down he missed you. His mouth pushes against yours again in a burning, mind-numbing kiss. You trace his bottom lip with your tongue as he pulls out, leaving you almost entirely before sinking back it. You cry out, breaking your connected lips, as he starts moving in blunt thrusts, working through your tight muscles. 

There is nothing slow or gentle about his movements. He is entering you over and over again, hard and fast just like you had imagined every night. 

With a particularly hard thrust, he lunges forward to pin you down to the bed. His forearms cage you in between him as his hands craddle your head. With your foreheads pressed together, he whispers dirty little nothings into your ear.

“Thought about you every night.”

_Thrust._

“Seeing you play with yourself in that shitty hologram — _Fuck_ — was ready to leave it all.”

_Thrust._

“Your p-pretty pussy never looked more beautiful stuffed with my come.”

_Thrust._

“Did you think of me? Think of being my little cum bucket?”

You loose yourself to him, eyes screwing shut, as desperate desire makes your pussy clench around him. “Yes, Maker, yes. Every f—fucking time.”

He moves deeper and faster, pumping into you with surging desperation. “Who makes you feel this good?”

“You! Only you!”

“Fucking right it’s only me.”

You cry out, cunt clenching around him as you come. You are nothing but your body, sweet spasms rushing over you as you rise in the air on clouds of ecstasy. 

Boba admires you, watching your eyes roll back as your brows scrunch in pleasure. You’re beautiful, fucked out and consumed by pleasure only he can bring you. 

He doesn’t spare you a moment to recover, keeping his brutal pace steady as your ride out your orgasm. Once again, he brings you into the realm of overstimulation, demanding more. 

“Again.”

“N—no, oh! I can’t.”

“That wasn’t a fucking request,” He bites your shoulder, hard enough to break skin as he slides a hand between the two of you.

“Time to let everyone know you’re mine,” He rubs your clit without mercy. “Fuck a baby into you. Make everyone know who you belong to. “

You’re twisting from one side to the other, your hands crawling at his flight suit as your body burned from his thrusts. 

“One more. Right _fucking_ now.”

“Maker, Boba!”

It’s too intense, _too much_ , and there was no way to escape it. He spears into you until there is not an inch of empty space between you. You shudder, lava flowing through your veins, as you fall apart for the final time. 

Just when you think you’re going to burst into flames, Boba’s hips sputter and he moans your name. He fills you, twitching against your tight walls as he paints your insides white.

His hips are still rocking into you with tiny thrusts when he collapses on top of you. His weight makes it harder to catch your breath, but you could care less. You’re just happy he’s back. 

Shuffling around, you wrap your arms around his neck as you lay in silence, still connected as he softens inside of you. Bodies sweaty and hearts thumping, you let your feats bleed out, as if they were nothing. As if you both hadn’t craved each other for weeks. 

Boba is the first to move, much to your dismay. Kissing your temple, he reaches behind you to grab a pillow before pulling himself up. He rolls the pillow up before moving a hand under your lower back.

“Life your hips.”

With his help, you lift your lower half just far enough in order for him to shove the rolled-up pillow under your backside. Your hips are now raised off the bed at an angle.

“Good girl,” He coos, unzipping a pocket on his utility belt. “Just stay there.”

“I need to clean up,” You protest watching as the corner of his mouth pulls up. That mischievous glint is back as he looks down at you. _Kriff_ , what does he have planned now?

That’s when you see it — shiny metal morphed into a bulbous shape with a wide base. 

“No you don’t,” He pulls out from your gripping heat and lines the metal plug up to your abused hole. “You’re keeping my cum in you all night.”

You shiver as Boba pushes the plug inside until your opening is effectively blocked. None of his cum would be escaping; and with the rolled pillow under you, maybe his seed would take.

“Boba,” The cold metal soothes your hot walls. “What is this?”

He leans down to kiss you, “Pretty baby, I told I was gonna bread you.”

He pushes your tangled hair away from your sweaty forehead, admiring the way your eyes widen. 

“We’re not wasting a drop. And tomorrow I’ll fuck you again. And again. And again. Until you’re swollen with my child.”


End file.
